A Supernatural Christmas Carol
by Emma Sparrow
Summary: After having a bad argument with Sam, Dean is visited by the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future, but can they help him to see things clearly before its too late? TWO PART SHORT STORY
1. PART 1 OF 2

**AUTHOR NOTE:** This isn't a hunt story, its just a fun little festive brotherly love story. I had the idea a while back and just had to share this with everyone. Of course, it is based around the same kind of idea as the Charles Dickens story, A Christmas Carol, but with my own Supernatural twists. I hope that everyone will enjoy reading it, and all comments and reviews would be very welcome. And, if you like this story, you might like to check out my other Supernatural story: Never Leave Your Side, which can be found via my profile, and is complete. I have also made a couple of Supernatural music videos on YouTube, the address for which, is on my profile page in case you are interested in watching them. Anyway enough of that, its time for part one of the story............

**SUPERNATURAL - A SUPERNATURAL CHRISTMAS CAROL**

**(PART ONE OF TWO)**

_**Set one year after the episode: A Very Supernatural Christmas.**_

"Just one damn day of the year Dean, that's all I'm asking for!" snapped Sam Winchester, he scowled at his brother with a deep concentrated anger.

"Sammy! Just because it's Christmas, it doesn't mean that all the ghosts, demons, and all those other freakin' mo'fos that we hunt down, are resting. We can't indulge ourselves with a break. Too much is at stake, of all people, you should know that! People could be in danger, and we've gotta be ready to help!" Dean retaliated with a fair point, but it still pissed Sam off. Every other human being in the world was enjoying their normal Christmas Eve today, but he and his brother, as usual, were on the trail of the usual nasties that lurked in the dark and beyond, the beyond that most people were blissfully unaware of.

Sam often craved after a more ordinary life. Sometimes he'd wished he'd never been made aware of the things that he and Dean knew of. To know of these things was a burden, and a curse. A sacrifice. He'd given a lot of thought lately about the kind of home that he might have had if he'd never been involved with the supernatural lifestyle that he was. Would he have a wife? Which hopefully would have been Jessica. Kids? The chance to experience that special moment on a Christmas morning when you can embrace the one that you love whilst watching the little ones opening their presents by the tree, a roaring log fire and carefully placed decorations brightening up the room, sending flutters of excitement through the heart and soul?

But that life would never be his.

"It's..it's Christmas Dean..." he said softly, almost a whisper as he hung his head low, hiding the sorrow that filled his eyes.

"You know what?" Dean yelled, "_I don't care!" _he emphasized each word slowly, trying to get his message through.

"You don't care? Well that's a real shitty thing to say!" Sam sighed heavily with frustration, "Dean, I just thought we could hang out. Be a family on a family day."

"Hey! If I remembering this correctly, wern't you the same one who was hell bent on not having a Christmas last year?" Dean's thoughts went back to last year, and what should have been his last Christmas ever before going to hell. Sam had come around to the idea in the end, but he hadn't realised that he suddenly wanted it to become a regular event.

"Yeah, I guess, but then, wern't you the one who _wanted_ a Christmas?" Sam retaliated.

"I didn't mean that we had to have it _every_ year!" Dean grunted, "Do you really need to be such a little bitch about this!"

"Look! I changed my mind about the whole thing, just thought it would be nice, y'know!"

"Argghhh!" huffed Dean moodily, "I'm not talkin' about this any more! We leave in the morning!" he jumped onto his bed, lay back, and closed his eyes. It looked as if he'd hoped that this would bring the argument to a close. But it didn't. Not quite.

"You can leave on your own then!" Sam shouted. He grabbed his backpack off the foot of his bed where he'd flung it earlier on after checking in, and stormed off towards the door, slamming it hard as he headed out into the parking lot. The cold night air hit his body like a powerful barrier that had been invaded by his presence, he shivered as he headed to the motel's main office, entered and strolled up to the desk.

The clerk, was slumped into his chair, reading a paper. There was a small TV on a shelf just an arms reach away, showing some old black and white movie.

"Excuse me," he said, "Have you got another room?"

The man looked up from the paper, "Yeah sure. Lucky for you it's been a bit slow tonight, I figure most folks gone home to their families. Cost you another fifty bucks though."

Sam sighed, not just at the price, but the reminder that he hadn't got a home to go to. "Here," he said as he pulled some crumpled dollar bills from his jacket pocket and slammed them onto the counter.

The man reached to the board behind him, and snatched a key off the nail that it had been hanging from. "Room 6." he said before settling back into his reading without further ado.

Sam gratefully took the key, went outside and made his way over to room 6. It was a shame that things had come to this. He didn't like it when he fell out with Dean, but he just couldn't be around him right now. Maybe spending a little time apart would help, although that would defeat the object of what he was asking his brother for in the first place. A Christmas together. No hunting and no pressures. But there was no way that Dean was going to budge on this, he could be real set in his ways when he wanted to be - a habit that he'd picked up from dad.

Sighing heavily, he opened the door, walked into the empty dark room, and mentally prepared himself for another Christmas full of disappointment.

Dean had fallen asleep fully clothed upon his bed, but it was a very unrestful slumber that he'd plummeted into. He tossed and turned as flashes of images penetrated his dreams and tumbled through his mind on fast forward, showing some of the evil spirits and demons that he'd encountered in the past. There was nothing in there that he'd particularly wanted to remember, but after killing something that you've hunted, the memory stays with you always, wether you like it or not.

As the visions grew more intense, he found himself waking with a start, eyes opening wide as he sat up on the bed. Sweat beaded on his brow, then ran down his face uncomfortably, and his clothes clung to his moist body underneath. He gasped in the same way a person would after they had just done a long distance run, so he took a few deep breaths to bring his heart back into it's normal rhythm.

When his body had calmed, he let out a sigh, then glanced over at the clock on the bed stand which told him that it was eleven fifty pm. He reached out a hand, and flicked on the small lamp, allowing it to bathe him in a small area of yellow light.

Then, he turned to look over at the empty bed across the other side of the room. He felt his heart sink as he remembered the words that he'd said to his brother earlier, but he also believed that it was about time that Sam accepted that this was their life, their calling. Why go pretending that they could do normal things like have a Christmas and act like two completely different people for one day. It wasn't them. Never would be.

He wiped his arm across his forehead whilst staring down at his quilt. After a few moments he fell back down, his head touching down on the pillow. He looked up at the ceiling. The lamp made a gradient pattern that spread out, fading the further it reached, eventually disappearing into the dark and shadows.

His eyes grew heavy again, so he closed them.

And that's when he felt it; a presence in the room.

With one quick smooth manoeuvre, he grabbed his .45 from beneath his pillow, sprang to a sitting position and pointed it towards the foot of the bed.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

He stared open mouthed at the spirit as he lowered his gun slowly. "_Mom?_" he asked incredulously, not altogether sure that he was dreaming this whole thing or not.

"Hello Dean." said Mary Winchester, her image bathed in a crisp white light as she moved slowly towards him.

"But...you...how can you be here? I thought that your spirit was destroyed..." and she was supposed to have been the day when they had re-visited their old family home in Lawrence, Kansas. She had chased out the spirit that had been causing trouble for a mother and her young children, saving Sam's life too, but by doing so, put an end to what was left of herself. Supposedly.

Mary smiled at her son tenderly, "I've been allowed to come back, just this once."

"But...why? Why now?" Dean asked softly.

"Because of you and Sam. Because something happened tonight, something that will set off a series of events that will be bad for the both of you unless...it can be put right." she was now standing right besides him.

"I don't think I understand..." said Dean feeling a little confused.

"You and Sam fell out."

"Well yeah, but, we've fallen out before." Dean smiled at her to try and indicate that things would be fine.

Mary reached a hand forward, and placed it against Dean's cheek. Her touch felt cold to him, but somehow warm at the same time. "It's different this time Dean." she sighed as she sat herself on the edge of the bed. "But its not something that I can explain easily, so I will have to show you instead."

"_Show_ me?"

"Yes. But...it won't be just myself. Tonight Dean," she continued, "after I have left, you will be visited by two other spirits, they too, will help you to see the way..."

"What? Mom...I still don't understand..."

"You will." with that she moved her hand away from Dean's face and clamped it around his own hand which was rested at his side, tightly.

Dean felt a strange sensation surge through his body, and a bright light engulfed him and his mother's spirit. It became so intense on his eyes, that he had to half-close them so that they wouldn't hurt as much from the brightness.

He kept his gaze on his mother, though it was hard to focus, let alone understand why she was here, or how she could be here. But whatever the reason, he was glad to have another chance to see her, even if she was a ghost. And, because she was here, the strangeness of the situation didn't frighten him, instead he felt safe at her side. The kind of safe that only a mother can provide.

Mary smiled at Dean as the light started to fade away, and ripples and swirls of colours ran riot around them, then turning into solid objects, a different room was suddenly revealed right in front of their eyes.

Dean blinked a few times, light spots still appearing under his eyelids, but then he focused and saw where they were. He recognised it well, although it had been quite some time since he'd last been here, well at least since the place looked exactly like this. Home. Lawrence Kansas.

Dean felt severely surprised, and didn't understand. He looked towards his mom, who was still by his side as they stood at the foot of the staircase, asking silent questions with his puzzled expression.

Mary held her smile firmly in place, before walking into the living room. Dean followed her, taking everything in as he went; the colours, the feel of the carpeted floor underneath his feet, even the smell; which was pleasant and homely in a way he couldn't think of words for, except that each home had its own aroma, and this was the aroma for here.

As he walked through the door and into the living room, he was greeted by a cheery decorated theme. Bright and happy cards of seasons greetings and joy adorned the walls in organised collections, and there were garlands, and spiralled shapes hung from the ceilings and walls, as a picture hanging of a beaming Santa Claus watched on with wide eyes.

A huge Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner, lights twinkling on and off in different waves of motion, which sent sparkles dancing off the colourful baubles and tinsel around them, like stars shooting across the green sky that they clung to. A pretty angel sat at the very top, Dean moved forwards slowly staring up at it.

"I remember this." he said softly as he came to a stop by his mothers side, "But...this is from when I was a kid..." he turned his gaze on Mary, more confused then ever,

"This is your childhood Dean," said Mary, "I've brought you back to see the last Christmas that we had."

"What? Y'mean we've come back in _time_?"

"Kind of. Everything you see, everything you can hear, touch or smell here, is from our combined memories."

"Why are you showing me this? This was before Sammy was even born..."

"I know," Mary interrupted, "but this is as good a place to start as any."

Dean didn't know what to make of that, and found himself staring back up at the angel, wondering how memories could look and feel so real. But, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone running lightly into the room behind them. Turning his head, he saw a young boy in his pajamas. He ran through Dean as if he were a ghost, and skidded to a stop in front of the tree.

Dean had to take a second look at him, as he could hardly believe what he was seeing. It was him. As a child. He turned to mom again, but she simply nodded forwards, as if saying to keep watching.

"Can he...I mean me, see us here?" Dean asked her.

"No. As I said, everything you see is created from our memories, we don't exist in the same time and space. But it is all exactly as it happened."

Dean turned to look at the younger version of himself again. He, well his past he, was kneeling on the floor, looking at the presents that lay underneath the tree. He picked up one colourful wrapped boxes, held it up to his ear, and gently shook it, a big smile spreading across his little face as he tried to guess what was inside.

"Dean!" a voice suddenly shouted as another pair of footsteps sounded from the door, "It's not time to open those yet, you have to wait until tomorrow."

Dean turned on his heel, to see his father stood in the doorway smiling across the room to his younger self. "Dad?" he called out, but of course, his father, John, could not hear him.

John walked over to the tree, and picked young Dean up, holding him in his arms as he walked over to the couch and sat down, young Dean ending up in his lap. "Daddy?" said young Dean.

"Yeah kiddo?" said John.

"Can Santa bring people _anything_ they want for Christmas?" he asked curiously.

"Well, I think so. Never heard of him let anyone down yet." said John ruffling a hand through young Dean's hair.

"It's just theres something else which I really really want, even if its not this year, but as long as he brings it to me one day." young Dean continued, the innocence of his young years shining through his face.

"What's that Dean? What do you really want?" John asked, still smiling.

"Well, it's just, every year, I get lots of toys but that's no fun." he waved his little arms quickly in the air in front of him, before slouching down.

"Why?" asked John, "Why arn't the toys fun? Don't you like any of them?"

"Yeah I like them, but I wish I had..."

"Wish you had what Dean?"

"I wish that Santa could bring me a little brother to play with, he could share my toys if he wanted."

John let out a slight chuckle, and hugged his son even closer, "Well maybe one day Dean. And you know, it's nice to hear that you'd share your toys."

Dean smiled when he heard his younger self saying this. He could even remember when he'd wished for a little brother, in fact, it wasn't long after this particular Christmas Eve, that mom and dad told him that he'd be getting one. He'd been so happy when he found out.

"Hey you two, time to go to sleep." said the voice from the door gently. The Mary of the past walked into the room, approached her husband and son, threw her arms around them, and hugged them tightly. After letting them out of her embrace, she picked young Dean up, and carried him away in her arms.

Dean watched emotionally, as she walked past him, followed by his father a few moments later. He wished with all of his might that he could make what he was seeing real, relive those first years of his life, but his heart sank painfully and uneasily as he realised things would never be this good, not ever again. It was all gone and there was nothing that he could do to change that.

Before John walked out of the room, he turned off the lights, although he left the tree lights on. Dean stood in the blinking colours staring in the direction of the door, even after his father had disappeared up the stairs.

"Dean," said Mary, as she put a hand gently on his shoulder, "Theres one more thing that I need to show you." she slid her hand to Dean's, he remained silent, as the room started to swirl and blur in bright light as it had done before, only this time, it didn't feel as though it took as long for everything to phase into their new settings. The white light, disappeared forming the clean walls that now surrounded them, and he could hear a buzz of activity all around.

Looking around, he noticed that they were now stood in a hospital, and doctors, nurses and patients were going about their routines.

"Why are we here?" Dean asked.

"Come with me." Mary said, coaxing him along by his arm, leading him into a side room.

Dean once again, saw his dad and his younger self, standing besides a bed. He walked slowly around, to see that his mum was the one in the bed, and in her arms, she was cradling baby Sam. John picked up young Dean and held him up to get a better look of his newborn brother.

"Say hello to Sammy, Dean." said Mary.

Young Dean reached out one of his hands, and gently touched Sam's head with his palm. "Hello Sammy." he said smiling.

"Now Dean, you have to promise to always be there for Sammy, you understand?" said John looking seriously at young Dean.

"I promise." young Dean said without taking his gaze off baby Sam. "I love you Sammy, forever and ever and ever."

Dean felt his eyes well up, and his insides stir. Seeing this part of this past, was really something special and moving. The four of them were together, the whole Winchester family back before all the demons and ghosts showed up to ruin everything. The way that it should have continued. A single tear washed down his right cheek, as he found himself desperately wanting to stay here forever.

He felt his mother tighten her hand around his again, and he managed, somehow to tear his gaze off his past family, which was nothing more real then watching a home movie, the scene just replaying what once was.

"It's time to go back now Dean." Mary said, she reached her free hand up to his face, and softly wiped away the tear.

"Why show me this? Why am I being reminded about this?"

Mary sighed, "That will become clearer after tonight is through, I promise."

"Will I ever see you again mom?" Dean asked, his eyes longing, his ears waiting for the only answer that he wanted to hear.

"I don't think so." her hand was now still on his cheek.

"But...I need you, _we_ need you mom..."

"You've been so brave Dean. You need to keep being brave, wether I'm here or not." she smiled, then once more, the room started to bur and shift around them, the light growing intense. Dean didn't take his eyes off of his mom, he wanted to look at her for as long as there was still time, to make a new memory of her loving face, a memory that he could always carry around with him. But, when the light had reached it's brightest peek, he couldn't see her any more, not even make out her shape. Then suddenly, everything went black, and he felt as if he were falling from a great height, then he fell onto something, something soft which broke his fall. He felt his eyes flutter, then open wide, and he was back in the motel room. Silence rang out loudly all around him. His mother was gone and he was alone, lying on his bed.

Quickly sitting up, he looked around the room, his eyes desperately searching for a sign that he hadn't just been dreaming vividly of the past, but that mom had really been here with him here tonight.

As he saw no evidence, his mind began to race through thoughts at a hundred miles per hour. If it had in fact all been real...then why? What had been the point of showing him all of that? What had any of it had to do with the argument that he and Sam had been having earlier? What did mom mean when she had said that things would be different this time?

He drew in a deep breath, and tried to steady the questions to some sort of manageable pace. Wether dream or reality, it had been nice to see mom's face so clearly, and to hear her speak, even if being shown the two moments from the Winchester family past didn't make any particular sense. They had been nice moments, but it confused him none the less.

Feeling stiff, Dean stretched upwards, his arms reaching high into the air, while his back arced forward. He closed his eyes as he felt his muscles easing up, and then he relaxed, opening his eyes.

He almost jumped from the bed when he saw who now stood in front of him.


	2. PART 2 OF 2

**(PART TWO OF TWO)**

"_Jessica?_" Dean asked as he slowly got off the bed and started to move closer to the beautiful blonde-haired spirit. He suddenly remembered another thing that mom's spirit had told him, that there would be two more spirits visiting him tonight. _Well that's just freakin' awesome_, he thought.

"Hi Dean." Jessica Moore said calmly.

Dean knew it was the wrong time to have a thought like this, but she actually looked pretty hot. For a dead chick. A dead chick who, when alive, was in a relationship with Sam. Her white dress hugged at her figure. It was all too visually pleasing. He tried to pull together all of his effort, so that he could bring himself back to planet earth so that he might have half a chance to figure out this freakin' weird night. "Y'know, I'm pretty sure that I'm either dreaming or hallucinating the whole of tonight, but," he smiled, "it seems as though I have no choice but to go along with it, and er...I guess theres much worse things that I could have ended up dreaming of."

"Oh, it's real Dean." Jessica said, smiling back at him.

"Then tell me," Dean continued, "if you are _really_ here, then how come you don't go pay Sam a visit and talk to him? I mean, he was you're boyfriend and all."

"Tonight I'm not meant to talk to Sam. I would like to...but...I'm not allowed to. It's you who I need to speak to, or rather..."

"Rather what?" Dean asked, "You gonna show me stuff from my past too? I told my mom, things between me and Sammy...the're gonna be okay."

"Well...I _am_ here to show you _something..._"

Dean grinned, "Oh yeah?" he asked cheekily with a wide grin.

"Dean! You really do have a one-tracked mind!" Jessica sighed.

"Yup. Sure do." he chuckled.

Jessica rolled her eyes and let out a deep sigh.

Dean's expression suddenly turned serious, "Oh...my...god! That pouty, sulky roll your eyes deal...did you teach that to Sam by any chance, 'cause he does it a heck of a lot..."

"Dean!" Jessica snapped. She didn't appear to be in a humorous mood.

"Okay, okay!" said Dean holding up his hands in mock surrender.

"You gonna listen now?" she asked.

"Yeah."

Jessica took in a long breath, even though technically of course, spirits didn't actually breathe, being dead and all. "I've been sent to you, to show you the Christmas present."

Again, Dean chuckled.

"Oh purleeez!" said Jessica, thoroughly annoyed. "I meant the present _day_, not a gift! Certainly not the type of 'gift' _you'd_ expect off a woman!"

"Damn! And there was I thinking that you were gonna do a lap dance in that cute little Smurfs Tee or somethin'..."

"I'm dead! Have some respect!" she scowled as she folded her arms across her front.

"Sorry."

"You gonna be serious now?" she asked.

"Well, I can _try_, I guess." he said with the best of efforts.

"Okay, then it's time we began." she said coming closer to Dean, moving her hand towards his. She took it and held it, and just like before when his mom had done the same, the room around them started to swirl in a montage of colours and light.

It didn't feel quite as strange to Dean this time, although he was anxious about what Jessica was taking him to see.

After a few moments, the colours and motion around them started to stretch out then solidify, and they found themselves stood in an alley. Dean recognised it straight away. He'd been there earlier that day with Sam. He turned his head to look at Jessica and was about to say something, but the sound of a girl screaming stopped him.

Without even thinking twice, Dean went on to auto pilot, and started to run in the direction of the scream, then he saw the girl it belonged to, running towards him, then through him, just like his younger self had done when mom had taken him back to the family home in the past. He swung around and watched the girl come to the bricked-up dead end. He recognised her as the same girl that he and Sam had saved the life of that very morning. He shot a gaze at Jessica, but she lifted a finger to her lips as to encourage him to concentrate on watching, rather then commenting.

The girl bashed her bloody fists desperately on the wall, as if trying to beat it down, but of course, that was impossible, and all that she really managed to do was cause herself more physical pain.

Dean watched sympathetically, but was forced to shift his gaze when he heard the sound of a glass bottle roll across the ground behind him.

Then it came for her. The vampire. He smiled menacingly, his fangs on full display as he closed in on his prey. He didn't run, he didn't have to, the girl had become paralysed with fear, her back to the grimy wall as she cried endlessly, awaiting her imminent death.

But then came Sam. He ran fast, covering the distance easily with his long strides, holding the machete out to the front confidently, ready for action.

He lunged at the vampire who snarled at the hunter with disgust in it's eyes. The girl collapsed to the ground in an exhausted heap, as she watched hopelessly. Sam swiped the sharp machete through the air, but the vampire ducked swiftly out of the way, then managed to jab Sam in his ribs with a hard fist. Sam winched and dropped the machete, as he fell to a crouching position. The vampire smiled again as he started to move in on Sam.

"Hey you blood sucking sonofabitch! Get away from my brother!"

Dean whipped his head around, only to see the himself from earlier that day approaching the vampire cautiously, machete in hand. When the vampire's attention was diverted by Dean, Sam made the most of the opportunity, and straightened himself up.

The vampire started to make a move towards Dean, as Sam tried sneak over to his machete which was lying on the ground to the left.

Suddenly, the vampire pounced with an enormous amount of momentum, and landed on top of Dean, sending them both to the ground with a thud. He brought his mouth closer to Dean's neck, ready to go in for his kill.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you!" Sam shouted. He was stood right beside them, and with one quick movement, he sliced the vampire's head off with the machete. Blood splattered across Dean's face and shirt, as the head rolled onto the ground beside him and the rest of the body collapsed heavily onto his.

"Ugh! Dude that's just gnarley!" Dean grimaced as he pulled himself free of the decapitated corpse.

Sam reached a hand out, which Dean took, and he pulled him to his feet. "Well y'know, I figured you'd rather get covered in blood then die."

They then walked over to the girl, and helped her to her feet, she was really shaken up, but luckily had avoided any serious injuries. Sam held onto her, as the three of them walked back out of the alley.

When they were alone, Jessica turned to face Dean.

"Woah! That was weird!" Dean said sounding quite astounded. "Like watching a scene from a movie with me in it, only not."

"It was fairly impressive." said Jessica.

"So I guess this is the part where I ask why you showed me this?" Dean said.

"Well, I think the point was to remind you about how well you and Sam work as a team, and if he hadn't of been there watching you're back, that vampire would have so kicked your ass."

"Thank you." was the sarcastic reply.

Jessica smiled, "Now we have somewhere else to go," she said as she reached for Dean's hand again.

Dean didn't have time to even think before their surroundings folded in on itself, and the bright light and swirls engulfed them yet again.

A few moments later, a room materialised. It was dark except for the feint glow that a lamp was giving off on a night stand. There were two single beds a couple of feet apart from one another right in front of them.

"Hey. Isn't this my motel room?" Dean asked recognising the lurid decor of the Bridgewater Inn.

"No. At least not your room." Jessica nodded towards the bed on the right. Dean looked over and noticed someone kneeling on the floor on the other side of it, his head bowed down, hands palm together in front of him. Sam.

"What...what's he doing?" Dean asked softly.

"Hes praying." Jessica's voice had changed now too. It had a deep emotional tone brought on by observing the boyfriend that she had cherished when she'd been alive.

Dean remembered that Sam had once told him that he prayed every day. He hadn't known what to think about that at the time, and sure as hell didn't know now either. He'd never witnessed him carrying out the act before, Sam had always kept that private. It felt uncomfortable somehow. Strange that he'd bow down and speak to a God whose existence couldn't even be proved. That couldn't be seen, and never would be.

But Sam believed it. And even if Dean didn't, it stirred a crazy unsettling emotion around his insides.

"Please God..." Sam suddenly said out loud, "I know that my brother and I, we've been given this life for a reason. We've saved people's lives...helped so many..." he trailed off for a moment and lifted his head. A tear rolled down his cheek and Dean could see the heartache set deep in his eyes as he got closer, sitting on the bed. "But," Sam continued, "after all of that, not that I want to sound or act selfishly, but I need my brother. I need him to be _Dean_, my _brother_, not just Dean the _hunter_ I work with. Hes all I have...well..._had_ left." he corrected, "I just want some time for us, as a family, but he can't see that now. I need him to see that, is that so wrong? Is it wrong to ask for something for us, just for a change? We've always put others first, sacrificed our own needs for them, so I'm just asking for this one thing. Please. Let my brother see this, please Lord."

"It's okay, I'm here Sammy." Dean whispered, even though Sam couldn't see or hear him.

Suddenly Sam drew in a deep breath, and got up from the floor. Dean watched him as he walked over to the other bed and climbed in, reaching over to turn off the lamp. They were plunged into darkness, but Dean could hear that Sam was still sniffing back the tears.

He hadn't realised that this Christmas had meant so much to his brother, enough for him to pray about sharing it with him.

Dean felt Jessica's hand wrap around his wrist. "Time to go." she said softly.

As the dark turned into the bright light, and the bright light turned into twisting flying shapes, Dean felt uneasy. Had he really caused his brother this much upset? The light intensified, and he found himself tumbling yet again, eyes opening wide as he landed back on his bed. Jessica was gone.

Dean remained on his bed as he awaited the third spirit to arrive. His mind was a buzz of thoughts yet again. _It'll be fine_, he thought to himself, It's all good. _Sam will be alright too_.

Getting edgy, he decided to get up and stretch his legs by pacing around the room. He felt stupid waiting, and even considered ditching, and finding Sam's room instead, but decided that it wouldn't help matters if he burst in this late. If Sam got some sleep. maybe he'd be different in the morning.

As he pivoted around and made his way back in the direction of the bed, he felt a cold chill.

"Dean." said a voice from behind him.

Dean turned back around, and was greeted by the sight of his father, John.

"Dad!" he rushed over to John, and threw his arms around him, burying his head into his shoulder, taking a tight hold for a few moments.

"Hello son." John said softly as he patted Dean's back.

Dean loosened his grip, then took a step back to take a better look at his father. "Dad, all of this...what's happened tonight..."

John smiled warmly, and Dean found himself not even wanting to speak. There was a million and one things that he could say to his father, but for now, he just wanted to look at him, this man he'd come to respect, this man who he and Sam had lost to the yellow-eyed bastard. The man who'd exchanged his life for his son's. There were no words for somebody as selfless as this; they were all too small, too insignificant.

"So Dean," John said after a few moments had past, "I hear that you and Sammy had a bit of a set to earlier on."

Dean snapped out of his 'lost for words' moment, "Yeah, word sure travels around fast, though I don't get what all the fuss is about. We'll be fine dad, honest. Sam will be walkin' through this door first thing in the..."

"No he won't Dean." John interrupted, a serious expression suddenly painting his face.

"_What?_" said Dean looking taken aback.

"That's why I'm here. That's why you're mother came to show you the past, and Jessica to show you the present..."

"That still hasn't made much sense dad..."

"If you can't see it now Dean, you never will." John shook his head and looked disappointed. He sighed heavily before continuing. "Well...maybe it's not too late, maybe once I've shown you the future..."

"The _future?_"

"Yes. You've already re-visited the past and the present, now it's time that you see what is left to come."

"Hey wait a minute. Didn't I see a movie like this before?" Dean asked.

"Forget the movie Dean, this is real life."

"Yeah, the kind of real life where ghosts turn up in my motel room, then show me the past, present and future. _Totally_ friggin' normal for _real_ life."

John didn't even bother to grace that comment with a reply, instead, he reached out his right arm and placed his hand on Dean's shoulder. "We should go." he said softly as he looked into his son's eyes.

The now all too familiar sight of the motel room disappearing, took over again, whipping Dean and his father through time and space. This time, forwards. The thought of seeing the future made Dean feel very queasy. Did a person really need to know where their life was headed? What if it didn't turn out like expected? Wouldn't it be better not to know?

It seemed to take longer to reach their destination this time, Dean figured that it probably used more 'cosmic mojo' or whatever it was, to go to the future, being that it hadn't actually happened yet.

But eventually, a new setting materialised in front of them. They found themselves stood in a small, cluttered apartment. There were what must have been hundreds of books, magazines and newspapers scattered around in messy piles all over the place. A huge map was pinned up across one wall, places had been circled in bright red marker pen.

"Where are we dad?" Dean asked, looking at John.

"You'll see." was the only answer given.

Dean turned his attention back to the room, his eyes scanning and observing all that he saw.

Suddenly, there was a sound, like something clicking against the rough wooden floorboards. There was a door at the far end of the room to the right, and a frail grey-haired old man appeared, his walking stick creating the sound they'd heard. His back was hunched over slightly underneath a tatty blue sweater. He wore small round glasses that sat precariously on the end of his nose.

The man slowly and unsteadily made his way into the room. He stopped to take a look at the map. "Where are you?" he said in a small voice, cracked with his old years. He shook his head in dismay, then made his way over to a dusty old armchair, and painfully sat himself down, sighing as he did so. He stared into space, his eyes seemed to hold a deep sadness.

There was a knock on the door, but the old man didn't get up.

"It's me, Wendy!" shouted the woman's voice.

"It's open. Come in." said the old man, though he still stared in the same direction.

Dean and John watched as a short, plump middle-aged woman entered the apartment. "You really should lock your door, it's not exactly a safe neighbourhood any more." she said as she strolled in with a quick pace. She dumped her purse on the free edge of a small table, then made her way over to the old man. Dean noticed that she was wearing a neatly pressed nurses uniform.

"It's not safe anywhere! Thought I'd told you that!" the old man snapped moodily, "They are out there I tell ya'! Theres demons, and vampires, and..."

"Your not still on about that are you? The're just ghost stories, that's all." Wendy interrupted, and chuckled cheerfully.

"They ain't no stories! It's all real, I've seen 'em!" the old man continued, "And, when I find my brother, It'll prove it!"

Wendy sighed, and perched herself on the arm of the chair, "Maybe it's time that we have another chat about that place I was telling you about. It's a really nice facility, you'll have your own room. Theres a garden there, and maybe I can even get you in for the Christmas dinner tomorrow..."

"I ain't goin' to no damn home! I told ya', so stop fussin' woman!" with that, he brought his walking stick down hard, not far from Wendy's foot. _Thud!_

"But I really do think that it's not such a good idea for you to be living here alone any more."

"Well I ain't alone am I? Got you to come round 'an upset' me every damn day. Besides all that. I gotta find my brother. Then he'll be here with me."

Wendy reached a hand down and patted the old man on the knee, "Your brother, he isn't coming back. Hes gone now, don't you remember? A long long time ago in that accident."

"Who? Sammy? He ain't gone!" the man huffed.

Dean suddenly had a _very_ bad feeling. He turned his gaze on John, "That old man...hes...hes me, isn't he?"

"Yeah, it is." John answered sadly.

"But...what happened? What happened to Sam?"

"An accident...he got hit by a pickup. The road was covered in snow, the driver tried to brake, but he skidded and...Sam didn't make it."

"No! This can't happen! This can't be what happens!" Dean cursed, the panic coming to life sickeningly. "Dad! You have to help me!" he begged, "Please help me stop this! Don't let Sam die! I don't want to end up old and lonely!"

John reached for Dean's shoulder, "Only you can change this Dean."

"So it can be changed? How do I do that? What have I got to do, I'll do _anything_!" Deans heart was racing so fast that it felt as if it were going to pop out of his chest.

"I can only show you this. I don't know _how_ to change anything. Only you can work that out." said John.

"But..."

"It's time for you to go back now Dean."

"No! You can't leave me dad! You have to stay, help me save Sam..." but it was too late. The room disappeared and dissolved into that bright light. then everything turned to darkness.

Dean gasped loudly as he awoke with a start. He was safe back at the motel, still fully clothed. Without another moments delay, he jumped off his bed, and pulled on his boots. He rushed out across the parking lot. It had been snowing heavily overnight, the ground a cold bright thick carpet of white. His feet crunched through it as he steadily made his way. He burst through the office door loudly announcing his arrival.

The clerk looked at him curiously.

"Excuse me!" Dean said as he approached the counter, "The guy I came in with yesterday, my brother. Which room did he check into last night?"

"Er...that would be room 6." the man answered.

"Great! Thanks!" said Dean, but as he turned to go back through the door, the man stopped him.

"You won't find him there though. He checked out a couple of minutes ago."

Dean felt a twinge of panic setting in, "Which way did he go?"

"Oh, I should imagine he'll head into town, its a couple of miles North."

Dean hurried out of the door so fast that he almost smacked himself into the glass before he'd got it fully open. He then ran back across the parking lot, looking out towards the road as he went. Then he spotted Sam, his backpack slung over his shoulder, who'd begun his roadside walk.

"Sam!" Dean yelled as he ran in his brother's direction, but Sam didn't turn. Maybe he didn't hear, either that, or he was ignoring him.

It was difficult to run in the snow, and parts of it seemed pretty deep, but Dean was determined to keep up his steady pace. He finally reached the roadside, and headed North after Sam. "Sam!" he yelled again. But Sam still didn't react.

The sudden sound of an unhealthy engine roared just up ahead. The next thing Dean saw was a wide rusty blue vehicle, which the driver of, seemed to struggle to keep under control in the snow. It started to slip this way and that, threatening to collide with something. And it was heading right for Sam.

"Oh my God. Sam!" he picked up his speed, and by a sheer luck, closed the gap between himself and his brother. As soon as he was close enough, he flung himself at Sam's side, and pushed him into the verge, himself landing right besides him. Then the truck suddenly tumbled and rolled over twice just feet away from them, eventually resting on it's roof. By some kind of miracle, the driver climbed straight out of the wreckage, somehow unhurt.

"_Dean?_ What the...? That pickup nearly killed me. If you hadn't pushed me out of the way..." Sam said, a completely stunned expression on his face.

Dean stared at the pickup with wide eyes, "Yeah. The pickup, you were meant to die but you didn't, and now I've changed the future."

"_What?_" Sam asked puzzled.

"Um...I..." when he actually stopped for a moment to think about it, Dean wasn't actually quite sure how to answer that. If he told Sam the truth about the spirits of mom, dad and Jessica visiting, and how they showed him the Christmas past, present and future, he'd probably be convinced that he'd gone nuts. Even though it must have been real. The part about the pickup nearly came true, but then, had it just been some kind of bizarre coincidence? He looked into Sam's eyes before he continued. "I...kinda changed my mind about this whole Christmas thing, that's all, and I just meant that I changed the future for today. That instead of goin' hunting, we'd have ourselves a festive dinner or somthin'"

Sam still looked confused, but then turned his head to look at the pickup's driver who was now cursing down his cell phone at someone "_Waddya mean you can't send a tow on Christmas day? God Damnit!_"

"What made you change you're mind?" Sam asked turning back to look at Dean.

"Dean shrugged, "Your my little brother, and we _should_ have a Christmas together. We should make the most of the time that we have together. Do I need more reason then that?"

Sam smiled, "I guess not."

Dean let out a manly cough and patted Sam on the back, "Right! Enough of that soppy crap! Lets get me some turkey!" he got himself up from out of the verge, and started to brush the snow off himself, Sam copying his lead. Then they began their walk back towards the motel.

"Merry Christmas!" Dean said to the disgruntled driver as they walked past.

"Yeah right! Merry Christmas my _ass_!" was the response, and Sam had to restrain the giggle that so badly wanted to come out into the open. Instead, he took a moment to look at his brother. Maybe this Christmas wouldn't be so bad for them after all.

**THE END**


End file.
